the air was stale
by bloodISmyFOOD
Summary: read whats inside


The air was stale, rank with the stink of smoke, sweat, and old beer. Skye's truck stop. Nice place for a meal. Sakura haruno sat at a small table, back to the wall, posture deceptively relaxed. Inside, she was coiled tighter than a knot but it was better to appear unruffled. Never let em' see you sweet. That had been one of Urahara's many mottos.

She glanced around the crowded room, mentally cataloging the Siberian gun truckers at the counter, the cadaverous pimp in the corner and his ferret-faced companion, the harried waitress who deftly dodged the questing hand that reached out to snag her as she passed. In the center of the room was a small raised platform with a metal pole extending to the grime-darkened ceiling. A scantily clad girl, barely out of puberty, wiggled and twirled around the pole. Sakura looked away. But for a single desperate act, one that had earned her freedom, she might have been that girl.

Idly spinning the same half-empty glass of warm beer that she'd been nursing for the past hour, she looked through the grimy window at the front of the truck stop. Frozen, colorless, the bleak expanse stretched with endless monotony until the high-powered flood-lights tapered off and the landscape was swallowed by the black night sky.

A balmy minus-thirty outside. And it would only get colder the farther north they went. Sakura had a keen dislike of the cold, but she can't go she had to complete the mission and when she gets home that will be enough to warm her frozen heart.

Keeping her gaze on the door, sakura willed it to open. She couldn't wait much longer. Where the hell was gaara? Sitting here—a woman alone in a place like this—drew too much attention. She wanted no one to remember her face. Anonymity was a precious commodity, one she realized had slipped through her fingers as from the corner of her eye she watched one of the Siberians being to weave drunkenly across the room.

"Well, hello, sweet thing." He stopped directly in front of her, kicked the extra chair out from the table, and shifted it closer before dropping his bulk onto the torn chair cover. He was shrouded in layers of tattered cloth that were stained and frayed, the stink of him hitting her nostrils before he finished his greeting.

"Leave. Now." Keeping her voice low and even, sakura snaked one hand along her waist toward the small of her back, resting her fingers on the smooth handle of her knife.

The Siberian smiled at her, revealing the brown stubs of three rotting teeth. "You can't chase me off so easy. I've been watching you." He gestured at the front of his pants. "You need a man, sweet thing."

_Uh-huh_ "and you think you're a man"

The trucker frowned at her question; then his thick brows shot up as he realized he'd been insulted. Undeterred, he leaned forward, catching her ponytail with one scarred and dirty hand. "I'll show you how much man I am. Give us a kiss, sweet thing." His tongue was already out and reaching as he pulled her face closer to his.

"Last warning," sakura said softly, wishing he would listen.

He gave a hard tug on her ponytail. Sakura slid her knife from its sheath, bringing it up with a sharp twist, neatly slicing through the tip of the trucker's tongue. Blood splattered in all directions, thick and hot. With an enraged howl he jerked back, letting loose his hold on her as he clapped down his mouth. Dark blood dripped down his unshaven chin to pool on the tabletop.

Sakura sent a quick look at the rest of the Siberians. Their attention was firmly fixed on the girl who was shimmying up and down the pole. Returning her gaze to the moaning trucker, she picked up the stained scrap of cloth that passed for a serviette and slowly wiped her blade clean. She knew that once serviettes had been made of paper, but that was a long time ago, when there had still been enough trees to provide pulp.

"Name's sakura haruno. Not sweet thing." She sighed. So much for anonymity. "And the last thing I need is a man."

Well, that wasn't exactly true. She needed one man in particular. Gaara and his precious trucking license, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The trucker's eyes widened as he registered her name, and a flicker of recognition flared in their dull depths. Nice to have a reputation, even if she didn't quite deserve it. **This lovely little encounter would just add to the mystique. Unfortunately, it would also to the risk of being found**. _Damn_

He reached for her gun again, his hands rough, his expression stormy. He was mad, challenged, belittled, and he wanted revenge. **What was it with Siberian gun truckers?**

Twirling her hair around on e finger, sakura shifted her expression, lowering her lashes over her green eyes in a come_-_hither invitation, curving her lips in a winsome smile. The trucker blinked, clearly confused by her abrupt change in manner. He leaned in—**lord, some people never learned—**and sakura deftly clipped him hard under the chin with the hilt of her knife.

He slumped across the Formica table, unconscious, mouth hanging open, leaving her with a blood splattered tabletop, a ruined beer, and an end to her patience.

His companions were looking this way now. Sakura lowered her head as though enthralled by her tablemate, using her body to shield his inert form from view. Her ruse worked, men nudged one another and laughed before turning back to the stripper.

Well, that had bought her about three minutes.

A sudden blast was her outside and some yelling a cured _oh god not him please let it not be him!_

Then suddenly the door was kicked in "hello everyone my name is naruto uzumaki and I'm going t-"well naruto didn't get to finish because he was hit on the head by a pissed off gaara

Sakura haruno sighed at the sight of it "well they made it that's for sure" then suddenly she realized that she didn't want them there **shit they're going to ruin everything. **_I know shit this is going to end very badly._ And so she put a smile on and acked like nothing was wrong.** I hope this works** _Me too._


End file.
